


Experimental Observation

by Medeafic



Series: Captain Spanky Series [2]
Category: Star Trek RPF
Genre: Fisticuffs, M/M, Masturbation, Mild D/s, Voyeurism
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-02-07
Updated: 2011-02-07
Packaged: 2017-10-15 11:41:04
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,303
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/160476
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Medeafic/pseuds/Medeafic
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Chris’s second experiment regarding his sexual orientation.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Experimental Observation

“You don’t like the crop?  Really?  But it’s such a classic!”

Zach gives a big, husky sigh.  “How many times do I have to repeat this, Pine?  No.  I do not.”

“You just strike me as a crop kinda guy.”  Chris knows he sounds disappointed.  “What do you use, then?”

Zach glanced at him.  “Jesus, are you _pouting_?”  Zach rubbed a hand over his eyes.  “Fine.  I guess my preference is for a cane.  If you _must_ know.  Now please drop it.”

It has taken a long time for Chris to drag out small pieces of information from Zach about what he likes.  For a few days after Tokyo, things were weird, although they had both expected that anyway.  After the studied civility passed, they got back to normal.  Almost normal, anyway.  Chris finds he is more eager to sit close to Zach during interviews.  Close, so they touch arms, shoulders, or best of all, thighs.  And Zach doesn’t pull away, which Chris is taking as a good sign.

They are at Zach’s place.  Noah has been safely stowed in the laundry, or what Zach insists on calling his doggie room, for the night.  It’s late, but neither of them have anything to do the next day for the first time in a long time.  They have exhausted their interest in games, TV, DVDs and for the past half hour they have just been talking.  Well, Chris has been questioning and Zach has been trying to avoid answering.

So far, since Tokyo, Chris has found out that Zach tops exclusively, that he has topped two women and he can’t remember how many men, that he likes things to get very rough with the right partner, and that he prefers a cane to a riding crop.

It has been four months and Chris has obtained four pieces of information.  And no further spankings from Zachary Quinto.

Not for lack of trying, either.  Somehow Zach has managed to avoid the question, gently steer the conversation away, smile easily and shake his head ‘no’ in a way that no one could take offence to.

Chris is starting to think he did something wrong.  He’d _thought_ Zach had enjoyed it.  Granted, Chris could use some work on the begging aspect, and it’s not like it was particularly rough or even particularly kinky.  But Zach had wanted to watch him come afterwards.  So, if he liked it, why wasn’t he coming back for seconds?

“I don’t get it, man,” Chris says bluntly now, after several minutes of silence. 

“What’s that?”

“Was I really bad?  Did you hate doing it?”

“What?”  Zach looks concerned, but then carefully makes his face blank.  “Look, Chris, I told you – I don’t fool around with straight boys.”

“But this isn’t even about sex!” Chris can hear his voice getting too loud for inside, and he throws up his hands in exasperation.

“Isn’t it?”  Zach stands and begins removing the empty bottles from the coffee table.  “Look, we both pretended last time that sex was not in the equation.  We pretended really well, right up until – well, the end bit.  But it wasn’t really true.  I’m not saying I regret it,” and he smiles to himself, Chris can see, “but I shouldn’t have done it.  We’re friends, man.”

“Can’t we be friends with benefits?” Chris grumps.

“You know I don’t do that.”

Chris stands up too.  “So you’ll cane random men – _and women_ for fuck’s sake – but when it comes to me, I’m not good enough.”  Zach starts towards him, eyes widening, and Chris can see a _That’s not the same thing at all_ argument forming, but he pulls his anger back.  “Forget it.  I should probably go.  It’s really late and I’m tired.”

“Dude, you are so not driving anywhere,” Zach says.  “You’ve had four beers.  I took your keys after the second.”

“Then I’ll get a cab,” Chris growls. 

“Don’t be a dick.  Stay here, like normal.  But take my room; I’ll sleep in the spare.  Something weird’s happened to the mattress in there; the springs have gone saggy.  God only knows.”  Zach takes the bottles through to the kitchen, storing them aside to recycle in the morning.

Chris really is tired, so he doesn’t say anything else.  Besides, in the back of his mind he’s thinking, _Zach’s room_.

He knows he shouldn’t.  But when it comes to Zach, his curiosity far outweighs his honour. 

  
***

  
Zach’s room is mostly devoid of trinkets, ornaments, gimcracks, gewgaws...Chris continues reciting synonyms in his head to distract himself from the fact that he’s being a big fat nosy jerk.  There are few closets, few drawers, and so far, no secrets.  But the irritation at not finding anything helps to keep Chris from feeling overwhelmed with guilt.

“Not even any porn under the damn bed,” he mutters to himself.  “Or dust balls.  Zachary is one clean son of a bitch.”

And that, of course, is how Zach finds him.  Head down, ass up, half under the bed.  Clad only in his boxer briefs.

“Chris?”

Chris bumps his head in surprise, and remembers Zach telling him how important it is to be turned on before you hurt.  _To make it a good hurt_.

“Yup?” he says, backing out. 

“What are you doing?”

“I dropped something.”

“Did you drop something in my closet and drawers too?”

Chris looks around the room with an angelic face.  It’s spread with clothes, hats, underwear.  Oops.

“I was just looking for some jammies, buddy,” he says to Zach, giving an open and honest grin.  Zach looks highly annoyed.

“Well, do you mind refolding my stuff when you’re done?”

“Sure, sure.”

“I have some old sweatpants in the drawer there.  You can use those if you want.”

“Fantastic.”

“And here –” Zach thrusts a glass of water and a pill at Chris.  “I brought you some aspirin.  In case you don’t feel great in the morning.”

“I only had four beers, man.  I’m not exactly a lightweight.”

Zach shrugs.  “To be honest, I wanted a chance to smooth things out.”  He sits down on the bed, putting the glass and aspirin on the nightstand.  “I’m sorry if I’ve made you feel unworthy in any way.  I can only point out again that I should have said no.”

Chris can feel a sudden, explosive rage boiling up in his chest, built on months of denial.  He knows this is not the time or the place.  But fuck it.  He just can’t help himself.  “Unworthy, huh?” he asks.

Zach is about to say something, but pauses.  “That was not a great word choice,” he agrees.

“Nope.”

“I just meant...” Zach trails off, but Chris isn’t going to help him out.

They stare at each other.

“I really wanna fucking hit you right now, man,” Chris says.  “So maybe you better just leave the room.”

Zach gets up slowly.  “Okay.  Sorry.”  At the door he pauses, tries to make a joke to reduce the tension.  “Not like you could take me in a fight anyway,” he says and – disastrously – gives a breath of a chuckle.

“Oh, it is ON!” Chris snarls, and throws himself towards the doorway, fists flailing.  Later, he protests that he would have been more tactical if he’d been less angry.

Zach dodges him, pretty easily, and his fist connects with the wall instead, cracking through the plaster.  Chris howls in pain, but Zach has already ripped him out of the wall by shoulder-tackling him back into the room.  They land on the floor, and Chris has the air shocked out of him.  But sheer rage allows him to keep trying, keep punching, keep kicking.

Zach is shouting something at him, probably “Stop!” or “Calm down!”, but Chris can barely hear him.  He scrambles off Chris, and tries to leave the room.  But Chris rolls to grab at his foot, tripping him off balance on to the bed.  Chris is up before Zach can get away again and they wrestle each other, half on and half off the bed, trying to gain dominance.

Then Chris senses a change in Zach.  He has been protective so far – of himself and of Chris – but suddenly he seems fed up.  He gives a brutal twist to Chris’s upper arm.  Chris falters.  Zach takes the opportunity to roll him on to his stomach and wrench his arms behind him, like he’s going to arrest him.  He’s straddling Chris at the waist, too far away from feet for any backward kicks. 

Chris keeps fighting him, or trying to, but is reduced to screaming “Get off me!  Get off me!” more quickly than his ego would like.  But Zach is not having it.  He holds Chris’s wrists down painfully with one hand and uses the other to bind him with quick precision.  With a goddamn skinny tie, Chris realises.

Chris is furious, huffing into the bedspread, his face red and sweaty and – goddamn it – his eyes stinging with tears.  _Of rage!_ he insists to himself.

They stay like that for a moment, both catching their breath.  Then Zach says, “What.  The _fuck_.  Is your problem, Pine?”

Chris just repeats, “Get off me.”  Zach shoves him backwards so that he has to struggle to sit back up on his haunches.

“I’m not going to untie you until you tell me what your fucking problem is,” Zach says calmly.  Chris turns his head to glare at him, and that’s when he notices.  Zach is leaning against the wall, his arms folded, one knee slightly bent.  And he has a hard on.

Chris gives him a hateful smile.  “So that’s the kind of thing that gets you going, huh, _Zachary_?”

“I have all night, _Christopher_.”  To emphasise the fact, Zach crosses the room to sit in the chair opposite.  He rests his right ankle on his left knee and folds his hands calmly over his stomach.

Chris maintains a mutinous silence for as long as he can, which is not very long.  “I’m tired of you shutting me out,” he admits to the bedspread.  He hears Zach sigh.

“I don’t mean to, Chris.  I just figured, if you were going to get into kink, or whatever it was you wanted – well, I just figured it would be better for you to find a _woman_ to explore it with.”  Zach uncrosses his legs and leans forward, elbows on his knees, hands outspread.

Chris looks at him and looks away.  “Okay,” he says.  “Okay.  But the thing is –” he takes a deep breath.  “The thing is, I’m starting to think I might not be one hundred percent down with the female of the species.”

Zach quirks an eyebrow.  “Oh,” he says.

“And before you start,” Chris continues quickly, “I know the difference between fantasy and reality.  But all I can think about now when I jerk off is –”  _Don’t say ‘You’, dumbass!_ “– guys.  So I was just trying to figure things out.  But every time I bring it up, you change the damn subject!  The only thing you would talk about was kink, and even then you barely talked about that!  It’s frustrating, man!  You’re my best friend.  If I can’t talk to you about this, who the fuck am I supposed to tell?”  Chris falls silent, surprised at himself. 

Zach puts his face in his hands.  “Look, don’t get me wrong.  Your experience is your experience, and that’s valid.  And you’ve been thinking about guys, okay.  But have you ever even seen another guy come?  And not in a porno,” he says quickly, seeing Chris open his mouth in protest.  “Have you ever really looked at another guy’s dick in real life and thought, yep, I’d love some of that?”

“I haven’t had the chance!” Chris snaps.  “And now I’m famous, and get followed everywhere, and photographed when I buy a goddamn coffee, so I can hardly try to experiment with some random guy!”  He drops his forehead on to the bed.  “Can you just fucking untie me now, please?”

Zach doesn’t say anything, and when Chris looks up again, he finds dark eyes staring into his own.  “Do you,” Zach starts.  He tries again.  “Do you like the feeling of being tied up?”

Chris considers.  “It doesn’t suck.  Although my face hurts.”

“I think you hit that yourself,” Zach tells him.  “Accidentally.”  He shifts his gaze to the wall.  “You also broke my fucking wall, Chris.”

“Sorry, man.  I’ll pay to get it fixed.”

Zach considers, his head tipped slightly.  “Christopher, I do believe I have done you a disservice.”

“You – what?”

“I haven’t been fair to you.  You were right.  I’ve been shutting you out.  And in the spirit of friendship and clearing the air, I think I owe you a favour.”

“Okay?”  Chris shifts on the bed.  “So...can you untie me, then?”

“No.”  Zach stands.  “I have a better idea.”  He unbuttons his shirt and folds it over the back of the chair.

Chris swallows, hard.  He doesn’t want to say anything, in case Zach stops doing whatever it is he’s doing.

“I’m going to let you watch me, Christopher,” he says softly.  “And just so we’re clear – I don’t let _anyone_ watch me.”

Chris shivers. 

Zach walks around the bed and pulls Chris up to his feet.  “You can watch and then you’ll know,” Zach murmurs in his ear.  “Or at least, you’ll know if it’s definitely not your thing.”

“I thought,” Chris says, but then he remembers to shut up.

“You’re just going to watch.  I’m going to keep you tied up like that while you watch, because I don’t want you to be tempted to touch.  And also, because I like seeing you tied up.”

Chris makes a squeaky noise at the back of his throat.  He tries again.  “Sure, okay man, whatever you think is best.”

“But first I’m going to fix your hand.”

“It’s fine,” Chris says.  “Don’t worry about it.”

“Just do as you’re told for a change, will you?  Jesus.”

Once he’s established that there are no broken bones, Zach dabs antiseptic on the broken skin, ignoring Chris’s complaints.  He puts on a few bandaids and then looks critically at Chris’s face.  “No blood, but you have a nice bruise starting under your left eye,” he tells him.  Chris just shrugs.  He feels like a bit of a fool now that the anger has passed.

Once he’s satisfied with his ministrations, Zach sits Chris on the bed to face the chair, where he seats himself.  They are close enough that their knees are touching, and Zach stretches out his long legs to twine with Chris’s.

“Sure?” he asks Chris. 

“Absolutely.”  He lowers his head but keeps his eyes pinned to Zach’s hands, which are pulling down his zipper and sliding into his boxer shorts.  They reappear with his cock.  He slowly traces his fingers up and down the length of his shaft.  He is thick, cut and, Chris thinks, bigger.  But he thinks this without any negative feeling.  In fact, he feels quite positive about this turn of events.

Zach leans forward and holds his hand out, cupped, in front of Chris’s face.  He looks at him expectantly.  Chris looks blankly back.

“Spit.” 

Chris feels his own dick jump at the command.  He does as he’s told.

“Good boy.”

It’s strange to watch.  So familiar, that Chris feels ghost sensations.  He’s leaked a spot of precome through his briefs before Zach has even started in earnest.  Every now and then, Zach silently reaches out for more lubrication, and Chris is happy to oblige. 

It’s not long before he can hear Zach’s breathing change, faster, shallower.  “Talk,” he snaps at Chris.

“About what?” Chris asks helplessly.  He’s a little out of his depth.  The kind of dirty talk he whispers into female ears is probably not appropriate here.

“Your fantasies, idiot,” Zach half-laughs.

“Oh.  Okay.”  Chris tries to collect his thoughts.  “I’ve thought a lot about Tokyo.  But I extrapolate.”

“Extrapolate,” Zach murmurs.

“Instead of just watching me at the end, I think about you joining in.  Sometimes with your mouth.  Sometimes you use your hands.”

Zach’s fingers are squeezing hard now and he twists his fist as he comes up near the head.  Drops of precome are starting to christen his cock.  He flicks a thumb over his slit, adding to the lubrication. 

“Oh God,” Chris says involuntarily.  “Okay.  Uh.  Sometimes I think about you using a crop on me.”

“You and that fucking crop,” Zach says, his voice low.

“I guess next time I’ll substitute a cane,” Chris offers.  “Last night I thought about you whipping me and making me jerk off while you do it.”

Zach gives a hiss and shifts slightly in his chair.  Chris’s eyes are wide and fixed.  “Keep going,” Zach growls. 

“I have thought about sucking your dick.  I’ve never done it before, so,” Chris inhales deeply and notes that Zach has closed his eyes now.  “So I would need you to tell me exactly what to do.  How you like it.”  Zach’s lips are parted and Chris sees his tongue flick over his teeth.  His hand is faster now, and the other one cups his balls, squeezing so very lightly.  “Sometimes I like a little teeth in a blow job,” Chris continues.  “I don’t know how you feel about that, though, so –”

“ _Fuck_ ,” Zach says.  “Yes.  Keep going.”  He stares straight into Chris's eyes.

“I guess I might be a little tentative at first, just a light graze with the teeth.  Because if I do anything wrong, in my fantasy, you punish me.”

Zach makes a noise and Chris’s cheeks flood with warmth.  He watches Zach’s cock spurt, quivering, feels his own jump in sympathy. 

 _Oh, yeah.  Yep.  This is definitely a good thing to be seeing_ , Chris thinks.

Zach is watching Chris from beneath hooded eyes.

“I can clean that up for you, man,” Chris offers hopefully.  “If you want.”

“That wasn’t the deal,” Zach says, but he doesn’t look angry.

“But –”

“Christopher.  That wasn’t the deal.”  Zach tucks himself away, grabs one of the t-shirts Chris threw on to the side table during his ransacking of the room.  He uses it to wipe himself down.  “When I make a deal, that’s it, exactly as I say.”  He pauses.  “Maybe next time we can negotiate something beforehand.”

Chris feels like a twelve year old girl who has been presented with a pony on her birthday.  “You mean –”

“Be quiet.  Just for now, please.  Be quiet.”  Zach is smiling, though.  Once he has safely buttoned everything away and replaced his shirt, he helps Chris to stand up.  As gently as a new mother, he unties Chris’s bonds, and rubs his wrists a little to help the circulation.

“How’s your hand?”

“Fine,” says Chris.  He is more focused on his cock, which is still rock hard and butting out at Zach.  “Sore, I guess.”

Zach gives a snort of laughter. 

“What?” asks Chris.

“Sorry, man, you just...you kind of looked like a crazed Muppet when you stormed me like that.”  Zach is clearly trying to fend off a laughing fit, but Chris is annoyed.

“I was mad at you.”

“I know.  Idiot.”  Zach pulls him into an unexpected bear hug.  Chris is conflicted.  On the one hand, he loves Zach like a brother.  On the other hand, he has an enormous boner and Zach is kind of rubbing up against it obliviously.

“Um,” he says.  “If we’re going to make up platonically, I’d like to put some clothes on.”

Zach lets him go.  “It’s a fair request.”  He walks to the door, and then asks, “You want another drink?”

“Go get me a beer,” Chris sighs, heading resignedly into the en-suite.  “I’ll be with you shortly.”  He hopes his hand isn’t too sore to jerk off.


End file.
